


nothing worth a damn

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:18:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean counts the things he has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing worth a damn

Here’s the thing about the life. After a while, you start counting out the things that you still have, not to be some melodramatic asshole whining about what could have been, but as trophies to prove that you’re still alive - to prove that yeah, fuck you to all of the monsters because I made it through another day, another fight. 

Fuck, maybe it is a little melodramatic but when you’re exhausted and wrung out from talking to a grieving mother mere hours after putting a bullet into her werewolf son, melodrama seems pretty par for the course. 

So, these are the things that Dean Winchester has: 

A semi-automatic, bought with money from his first successful night of hustling, and painstakingly cared for. A couple of sawed-offs given to him by Bobby Singer on his thirteenth birthday. An original Led Zeppelin concert t-shirt from some thrift shop on the Haight from that time they went vampire hunting in San Francisco. A battered copy of The Long Halloween that he keeps tucked into the front pocket of his dufflebag, the paper worn around the edges from countless re-reads. He’s been trying to get Sammy to read it for ages but the little shit thinks he’s too smart for comics. 

But all of that, at the end of the day, it's just stuff. Stuff that he'd be pissed off for a while over if he lost them but he's learned to be selective in what he gets attached to, because sometimes you gotta make sacrifices. There's always something that has to get left behind. 

No, above all, what Dean has is a little brother that he’d fight to hell and back for. 

(On his good days, he tells himself that he has a father, but the sting of too many weeks left abandoned in a run-down motel doesn’t fade fast). 

It’s not normal, this life that they lead, growing up a soldier and spending hours on the road trying to find the next thing that needs killing, but it’s theirs and it’s all Dean knows. 

(Except that’s not quite true either but - _well_ , soldiers make do). 

Sammy’s not a soldier. He’s never wanted to be and he’s fought this life every step of the way. He’ll bitch and moan and rant about how Dad just doesn’t understand that he doesn’t want to be like him, all squinty eyes and teenage indignation. Privately, Dean thinks Sam and Dad are a whole lot more alike than either of them would ever want to admit, but try telling either of them that. 

And just like Dad, Dean knows that there’s going to come a day when Sam will walk out the door and Dean’s going to be left wondering if he’ll ever come walking back through it. 

Sometimes he keeps track of the things Sam has. It became a habit after that one time when Sammy was ten and they left behind his teddy bear while on the run from the cops in Cleveland, and the kid would not stop pouting about it for weeks. It seemed like the thing to do, just another part of his job. 

Here are the things that Sam Winchester has: 

A long, curved knife that Dean bought him because it looked like something out of Lord of the Rings. A couple of sawed-offs given to him by Bobby Singer on his thirteenth birthday. Half of an encyclopedia set, found abandoned in a trash can in Atlanta. A photo of Mom, the only thing about her that Sam will ever know. 

And an acceptance letter to Stanford University, found stuffed under a pillow, currently shaking in the hand that Dean’s holding it in. 

(Here are the things that Dean Winchester has: nothing that's worth a damn, not without his little brother).


End file.
